


No Escaping Gravity

by indevan



Series: Rock Band AU [20]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Introspection, M/M, Overdosing, Reunions, discussion of eating disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: All things considered, they should have expected it.  It’s not the first time for the group or even the first time for him specifically.  But no one can ever prepare for it





	No Escaping Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> since after the first few fics the rest are not in any kind of chronological order, i have this handy dandy [timeline](http://vertigoats.tumblr.com/post/166537761367/since-after-the-first-few-the-fics-in-rock-band) for simplicity's sake :D

All things considered, they should have expected it.  It’s not the first time for the group or even the first time for him specifically.  But no one can ever prepare for it.

The tour is almost over.  Three months of show after show and they’re spending three nights playing three shows in the last city.  One show down and two to go.  Everyone is restless.  Mostly, Raditz thinks, they just want to go home.  He knows that he does.  He wants to go back to their shitty apartment and he wants to kiss his gorgeous boyfriend.

Tonight, he sips from a bottle of beer and pushes off hangers-on.  There’s a lot more on this tour than there were.  Groupies, he figures, or just people who want to be in their orbit.  This is new and he doesn’t wholly like it.  Maybe he might have before if guys were throwing themselves at him but now he just politely smiles and turns them away.

He turns his attention instead to the center of the bar where Turles is jumping around with a bevy of sweet things.  He knows from his best friend’s excited ramblings that he’s gotten an incredible amount of action on this tour.  Raditz is too good a friend to tell him that it’s because Broly isn’t interested and that the rest of them are all in relationships.  Then again, he’s good-looking and so, so charming so maybe him being the only single, willing member of the band isn’t the only reason.

Even though reporters are still more obsessed with his brother and Vegeta, Turles has gotten his fair share of attention.  Maybe it’s because he’s a proper rockstar who sleeps with groupies and pretends to throw a fit when they give him the wrong kind of M&Ms than what’s written in their rider.

Raditz leans against the bar and tips his beer bottle to his lips.  He’s vowed to take it easy tonight: beer only, no hard liquor or drugs.  They’ve all been out of control the past several weeks and he needs to start to adjust back to the real world.

Turles has no such concerns.  He’s known him long enough to know the signs that he’s completely fucked up.  He figures he should intervene at some point because that’s what best friends do and he’s going to be the more levelheaded tonight.

He eases up off of the bar and figures it’s time to come to his rescue now.  Those people dancing around him aren’t going to give a shit.  As he does, he sees Turles falter a step.  He stills and Raditz can see a sheen of sweat all over his face, slick under the lights of the bar.  He wobbles for a moment and then slowly, gracelessly, collapses to the ground.

\--

Raditz rides with him in the ambulance.  The paramedics tried to stop him, said he wasn’t family, but he heard himself scream “Of course I’m his fucking family!” and they relented.  He almost wishes that he didn’t because everyone is surrounding Turles, lifting his eyelids and shining lights on his unresponsive pupils.

“What did he take?”

“What didn’t he take?” he shoots back without thinking before amending it to, “I don’t know.”

They stick pads on him to monitor the frantic whooshing of his heartbeat.  He watches them stick a tube down his throat and start pumping this noxious-looking black stuff in it.  Turles convulses and starts to retch.  Raditz feels himself get that Feeling again where he completely loses track of time and stares into space.  The paramedics are still asking him questions but he knows he’s completely unresponsive.

He comes back to himself later in the hospital waiting room.  His knees are drawn up to his chest but he barely fits in the chair that way and his body is starting to ache.  He has no idea how long he’s been here.  The waiting room is empty except for him and one of the fluorescent lights above him is flickering in a way that makes him feel like this isn’t altogether real or happening.

“Here you go.”

Raditz looks up to see Nappa standing over him.  His arm is outstretched and holding one of those bottled iced coffees.

“The machine’s broken and you look like you need this.”

He takes the bottle, acknowledges the slick coolness of it against his palm, and lets his legs flop out.

“Doctors say anything?”

Nappa shakes his head and sits next to him.  Good ‘ol Nappa, he thinks.  Always with them even after King Kai kicked him out of the band proper.  At least he gave him a job, though, even if it is as their glorified handler.

“Surprised this hasn’t happened to you kids before,” he says in that gruff way of his.

“It has,” Raditz says. “Kakarrot.”

That isn’t the only time but the only other time it’s been nearly as bad as this, at least.

“What happened?”

“We were fucking around and there was coke and he snorted it and.  I guess it was cut with something and he just went completely catatonic.  And I remember.  I remember, like, my first thought wasn’t what I was gonna tell my parents or Chi-Chi.  It was that I fucked up.  He was my baby brother and I was supposed to look out for him.”

He slumps into himself and rolls the bottle of coffee between his palms.  He still remembers poking Kakarrot and slapping at his face to try and get him to respond.  The fear of it.  It feels the same now.  Turles is his best friend and, sure, he’s older than Raditz and he’s an adult but.  He still feels responsible, somehow.

“What happened there?” Nappa asks. “I mean.  Obviously he lived.”

“Exactly,” he says back. “Kakarrot is, like, indestructible.  He’s the most resilient pain in the ass I’ve ever known.”

Nappa chuckles and then points to the bottle.

“Drink it.  You need it, kid.”

Raditz shrugs but does as he’s told.  The coffee is cold and sweet and he swallows it gratefully.  He lowers the bottle and uses one hand to rub the spot between his eyebrows.

“What’s the press saying?”

“Shit’s out on social media already.  With pictures.  Jaco is freaking out, of course.  We made the others go to bed.  Didn’t wanna overload the waiting room.”

He nods, accepting it.

“Is he gonna be alright?”

Nappa arches a brow.

“Turles?  Oh, yeah.  That kid is tougher than shit.  It’ll take more than fucking up a mixture of pills and booze to take him down.”

It’s something he knows, already knew, but it’s comforting all the same to hear it from Nappa who used to go on tour with bands back in the nineties as a backing musician.  He’s seen it all and then some.  Turles will be fine, but he also doesn’t want to think that.  That’s how it goes in TV shows, doesn’t it?  You think they’re fine and then they’re.  Gone.

Some time after this, Nappa calls him an Uber and tells him to get back to the hotel.

“What about you?”

He cracks his knuckles and said, “Insurance policy against paparazzi.”

Raditz almost laughs.  When his ride arrives, he gets in the back of the gray sedan and flicks his eyes to the window.  His driver looks like he wants to talk but decides against it.  Partway back to the hotel, his phone rings.  Raditz is tempted to simply ignore the call until he sees the picture and name that comes up on the screen.

“Hey.”

He wants to say more but the night has worn on him and he doesn’t truly believe that he’s talking to who he’s talking to.

“Are you alright?” A pause. “Dumb question.  How are you?”

It’s been so long since he’s heard his boyfriend’s voice, he almost doesn’t read the nuance that belies his often deadpan way of speaking.  It isn’t flat or emotionless--in fact, there’s usually an element of mirth beneath each word he says--but it can be deadpan and snarky enough to make Daria tell him to tone it down.

“No,” he says, not bothering to lie.  He’s bad at it and, besides, he can’t lie to Lapis.

“How’s Turles?”

“Not sure.  Doctors won’t say.  I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” Raditz swallows and presses his temple against the window. “How’d you find out?”

“We were recording some stuff for our EP when King Kai got the call,” he explains. “I had to make sure you were.  Well.  I was worried.”

The part of him that isn’t numb from exhaustion and everything else is touched.  Hearing his voice, too, makes his heart lurch in a way he wasn’t prepared for.  He’s talked to him on the phone and in video chat but it’s different tonight.  Maybe it’s because of Turles or the weird emptiness of time or that, soon, he’ll get to see him again.

“Thanks,” he says and then yawns.

Lapis seems to catch it and he can practically _hear_ him giving that slight smile of his.

“You should get some sleep.”

“If I can.”

“I know.” He pauses. “But try to.”

He thinks of what Turles would say, which is “sleep isn’t punk rock” or “nobody sleeps while I’m awake” but.  He shakes it off.

“I will.  I’m almost to the hotel now.”

“Are you driving?”

“No, Nappa called an Uber for me.”

He almost misses the sigh of relief.

“Okay.  Get some sleep.” Another pause. “Love you.”

Lapis says it the way he always does, like he can’t believe he’s saying it but Raditz doesn’t get offended.  He’s long since figured out that this is his first, real relationship in years, much like it’s his first serious one since Turles.

“Love you, too.”

\--

The next morning, Raditz drags himself down to the lobby of the hotel where the others are already raiding the complimentary breakfast table.  He yawns and rifles a hand through his messy hair.  He’s managed to grab a shower this morning but he still feels drained and out of it.

“Hey,” Broly greets him first.  His mouth is full of bran muffin and he waits to swallow before speaking again. “Good morning.”

Raditz nods and before he can say anything, a full plate is thrust into his hands.

“Here ya go,” Kakarrot says brightly. “Hot breakfast.  Well.  Hot _-ish._  This place isn’t exactly great.”

He nods his thanks and takes his plate over to one of the tables in the dining area, grabbing a fork along the way.

“The hospital called this morning.” Kakarrot slides in across from him, holding his own plate heaped high with food. “Turles is stable but not up to visitors.”

Raditz hasn’t even checked his phone yet.

“He sent this to the group chat, though.”

He isn’t sure when Vegeta came to the table but he takes the phone handed to him anyway.  There are two messages on the display.  The first is a selfie of Turles propped up on his hospital bed, sticking his pierced tongue out while grinning.  The text sent below it reads, “I lived, bitch.”  It’s possibly the most Turles response there can be to overdosing and Raditz feels a weight lift off of his chest.

He eats his breakfast on autopilot and finds his eyes focusing on Broly’s fingers as they shred the wrapper for his muffin.

“You alright?”

He looks surprised, caught off-guard, like a deer caught in a headlights who can’t remember if they left their oven on.  Or however that simile goes.

“Yeah.  Just.” His mouth twists. “Worried.”

Raditz squints at him.  Since he and Broly reconciled, he’s been more and more convinced that he’s developed feelings for Turles.  Vegeta says he’s projecting, but what does he know?

“He’s good,” he assures him. “Don’t worry, Broles.”

He purposely uses Turles’s nickname for him and it gets a slight smile to flicker onto his face.

“Kale’s going to play with us,” Broly says quietly. “Tonight, I mean.  And probably tomorrow.  I told her we’d run through it before the show but that most of our basslines are pretty simple.”

He nods, acknowledging the statement.  Even though he knew, logically, they aren’t playing with Turles tonight, having to presented to him is another matter.

“We wanna play a Billy Joel song for him,” Kakarrot adds. “He’ll be both touched and pissed that we’re ruining his punk cred.”

Everyone is in a weirdly good, peppy mood.  Even Vegeta isn’t scowling.  He remembers his own outrage at the paramedics the night before.  Vaguely recalls snarling at Kakarrot when he told him to calm down.

“Stop being weird,” he says irritably. “I’m fine.  I was worked up last night ‘cause my best friend OD’d.”

Kakarrot stares at him, his finger idly flicking at the hoop pierced through his left ear.

“Sure,” he says after a moment. “So if you’re fine, can I have some of that bagel I got you?”

He chooses to answer him by glaring at him and stuffing the whole of it in his mouth.

\--

It’s weird, playing without Turles.  He’s the one whose idea it was to form a band and it was in his garage where they first practiced.  Not having him up onstage is wrong but.  It isn’t like they can just cancel.  Kale is a fine bassist and she managed to nail most of their setlist on the second or third go through.  The energy is different, though.  Raditz can’t concentrate, can’t lose himself the way he normally does.

“Hey, hey,” Kakarrot says, speaking into his mic. “So, we’re gonna play a song now for Turles, who you can see isn’t here tonight.”

There’s a chuckle that ripples through the crowd, nervous and knowing.  Raditz feels his hands tighten around his drumsticks.  He breathes out.

“Now, you wouldn’t know to look at him but Turles’s favorite singer ever is Billy Joel.  And he might be mad that we told you all this and ruined his punk cred...” Another laugh from the crowd. “But he’ll appreciate the irony.  Is it Irony?  Geta, is it irony?”

“The fuck should I know?”

Broly starts playing the opening piano notes and glances at Raditz when it’s time for his cue.  Kakarrot grins and grabs the microphone, his guitar flopping from where it hangs.

_“Come out, Virginia, don’t let me wait.  You Catholic girls start much too late…”_

They go through the song, putting their own spin on it.  At the chorus of _“only the good die young”_ the entire audience yells it back.

After that, the rest of the show goes as well as it can.  Raditz smiles, acknowledges the applause, and gets off.  He still feels completely out of sorts.  He _knows_ Turles is okay, that he’s lived and he’ll be fine, but he has to _see him._

He makes his way down into the venue towards the bar.  Hands grab at him, telling him about the show or asking about Turles.  He gestures behind him to where the others are.  If people are going to bug him about something that’s none of their business, he has no issue with subjecting them to Vegeta’s temper.

The bartender hands him a pint glass and smiles.

“Good show,” he says.

“Uh.  Thanks.” He manages to stop himself before saying “you too” and he wonders when he’ll have enough fame to actually be able to have non-awkward small talk.

Raditz turns around and runs his finger around the lip of the glass.

“There you are.”

He isn’t surprised to hear King Kai’s voice.  He was on his way anyway to see to the last two shows of the tour.

“Here I am,” he says back. “Have you been to the hospital?”

He shakes his head.

“No visitors until tomorrow, they said,” he reports. “They want to monitor him and make sure nobody puts undue stress on him.”

Raditz snorts.

“I imagine you storming in and saying he’s going to give you a heart attack would do just that?”

King Kai sighs and uses both hands to rub his temples.

“All of you,” he mutters. “But no.  Someone’s with me.  He bought a plane ticket last minute when he found out.”

Raditz cringes and lifts his glass up off of the bar to take a sip.  He can just imagine who it is: their recently hired press agent.  Whis definitely would come down for damage control.  He doesn’t _mind_ him, in fact, he normally likes him, but he doesn’t want to deal with him right now.

“Is he already putting the fear of god in the press?”

King Kai looks momentarily confused.

“Who?  No, no.  Whis is in Martha’s Vineyard with his husband.”

Of course he is.  Whis and his husband are rich in ways that Raditz can’t even fathom.

“Then who came with you?”

Someone touches his arm.  He turns to tell them that he’s in the middle of a conversation, but the words catch in his throat.  The dim lights of the bar catch the pale, icy blue of Lapis’s eyes and he can see the bemused way he’s looking at him.

“Hey.”

It’s simple and as if it’s call he has to say.  Raditz puts his glass down on the bar and wraps him up in his arms.  He smells like he always does: like dryer sheets and that weird, lemon basil face wash he uses.  His hair is silky against the bottom of his chin and Lapis’s hands are rubbing his back through the thin material of his t-shirt.

“You came,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I did,” he says, his tone teasing.

Raditz captures his lips.  He isn’t sure if King Kai has left or is standing there awkwardly during their reunion, but he doesn’t care.

“You doing any better?” Lapis asks once he comes up for air.

He shrugs because it’s the truth and he nods.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

It’s phrased as a question but Raditz doesn’t bother answering it.  Lapis seems to understand because he nods and takes his hand in his, lacing their fingers.  As they leave the bar, he can hear people asking them questions--both of them--but he tunes them out.

\--

“King Kai still makes you share hotel rooms?” Lapis asks because of course this is what’s on his mind right after they have sex.

“We’re making more money but ‘not enough.’  I think he just doesn’t trust us.”

“Can you blame him?”

Raditz pouts exaggeratedly and he knows his pout isn’t as potent as his brother’s but he thinks it’s fairly powerful in its own right.  Lapis laughs and gently pushes his face away.  He responds by putting his arms around his slender waist and pulling him close to his body.

“You’re frisky,” he observes.

“I haven’t had sex in three months.”

A small smile flickers onto Lapis’s face.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

It’s a heady feeling having all of Lapis pressed up against him.  The only human contact he’s really had is waking up with Kakarrot’s foot in his face.  This is far more preferable.

“Are you going to visit Turles tomorrow?” he asks.

Raditz nods.  He lets his fingers go through Lapis’s hair, savoring the feel of it.

“Yeah.  You wanna come with?”

His fingers, which had been splayed along Raditz’s collarbone, still.

“No,” he says after a moment. “I don’t...do hospitals.”

The statement is spoken slowly and deliberately and Raditz can tell that there’s something he’s not saying.

“What’s up?”

Lapis looks askance but then brings his eyes back to meet his.

“My sister told me that if I’m serious about you--about us--I need to tell you everything.” He sighs. “And, as usual, she’s infuriatingly right.  So.”

He’s sure that this shift in conversation isn’t actually a shift, but has to do with his statement of not wanting to go to the hospital.  He also makes note of the fact that Lapis said they’re serious.  It makes sense, and Raditz has always thought that way, but hearing Lapis confirm it himself is something else.

“Tell me,” he says softly.

Lapis shifts in his arms and he looks nervous, unsure.  It’s not how he looks normally.  Raditz has only seen it once before, when he first told him that he and his sister were identical and he watched and waited for his reaction.

“When I was younger, I was hospitalized.” He takes a deep breath and adds, “for an eating disorder.”

“You were?”

He hates his inability to not put his foot in his mouth.  Lapis gives him a look and then gives a soft, short laugh.

“Yeah.  And then my parents had me do outpatient care with group therapy and shit,” he says. “I’m better now but...I remember just being in that bed with the IV in my hand and the shitty, antiseptic smell of everything.”

He’s trying to say it in his usual way but his voice wavers as he relays the memory and Raditz pulls him tight against him.

“I can go with you, though,” he says after a moment. “If you need me to.”

Raditz shakes his head.

“I won’t make you.  I’m a big boy.  And the others will be there, too.”

Lapis looks relieved and presses a kiss to the side of his neck.

“You’re a good boyfriend,” he murmurs.

“I try to be.” He presses his lips together and remembers what Lapis said earlier.  If they were serious about one another, they should be honest.  Maybe not lay _everything_ bare, but he should start. “When Turles and I were together, I was a pretty shitty boyfriend.”

Lapis arches one brow. “Didn’t he sleep with your brother?”

Raditz sighs and tilts his head back to shake out his hair.

“Yeah and.  It was both of us, really, but I used to be a lot.  I dunno, angrier.  It’s like when we were together, he was my boyfriend and not my best friend and then he was neither.”

He remembers their fights, directly after, how angry he felt.  Like there was a poison in him, seeping into everyone else even if he wanted it directed at only one person.  His mouth always tasted metallic then, when he was mired in his anger, and it lessened over the years as they learned to cohabitate again.  It finally faded when they made up last year, finally, when he got over it and they were friends again.  Maybe that’s why he’s so messed up by the entire situation.  He _knows_ Turles can and will and _has_ bounced back but there were all of those wasted years he spent still being angry.

Lapis strokes his hands down the back of his neck before he buries them in his hair.  He brings their lips together.  He lets his own hands stroke down his body, mapping it.

“I love you,” he says quietly, speaking the words into Lapis’s mouth.

He smiles enough to show the edges of his teeth and says, “Love you, too.”

\--

“He’s in room 237,” the receptionist at the hospital says.

Raditz notices that she’s giving all four of them dirty looks, like she doesn’t trust them.  He’s used to it.  Even other bands on their label, ostensibly fellow punks, look down on them.

“Ooh, like _The Shining_ ,” Kakarrot says excitedly. “Think we’re gonna find a dude in a bear suit giving Turles a blowjob?”

The receptionist glares at him specifically, her pinched expression drawing in more to show her distaste for his comment.  Kakarrot seems to notice because his eyes go wide and he starts waving his hands in front of his face.

“Haha, you know, like the movie?   _The Shining?_  Umm.” He looks around for a moment and then hands her his license. “Anyway, hi, I’m Kakarrot.”

She rolls her eyes but her pinched expression softens momentarily.  That’s the effect his brother has on people.  She scans his ID and prints off a visitor’s pass for him to stick to his shirt.  She does the same for the rest of them and directs them to the elevator.

“I don’t think I’ve been in a hospital since Goten was born,” he opines.

“Do you ever shut up?” Broly asks with a weary sigh.

There’s a peace between the two of them now but Raditz is fairly certain that Broly will never actually _like_ Kakarrot.  They reach the elevator and Vegeta smacks the “up” button.

“It looks different in the daytime,” Raditz says.

The fluorescent lights are less like a horror movie and the white walls seem more sunny and inviting than stark and sterile.  The elevator dings, signaling its arrival, and they pile in.  Broly presses the button for the second floor.  It’s easy enough to find the appropriate room.  Signs helpfully direct them in the right direction, which is good because not a one of them has a decent sense of direction.

Raditz isn’t sure what he expected when he walked into Turles’s hospital room.  It’s only been two days--it’s not like he’d be weak and drained of color or frail and shaking.  He looks the same except his hair is messier than usual and he’s exchanged his leather jacket for a hospital gown.

“Hey!” he says brightly. “Fucking finally.”

Raditz wants to hug him and punch him at the same time.  Instead he walks up sinks into the chair by his bed.  Seeing him, the confirmation that he’s okay, is overwhelming.  The only person in his life he’s known longer than Turles is his brother.

“You scared the shit out of me, asshole.”

He grins like he knows how Raditz feels without him having to say it.

“Some of the doctors wanted to take out my facial piercings and I told them to fuck off,” he informs them. “In fact I might get my lip done.  Kakarrot, you had one for a hot minute, right?”

His brother’s fingers brush over the slight mark that remains of his short-lived lip piercing.

“Yeah, but I kept messing with it.”

It’s an annoyingly banal conversation like Turles isn’t in a hospital bed recovering from an accidental overdose.

“Asshole,” Broly says quietly.

There’s a shared look between them that Raditz wants to try and read.  He thinks back to Broly’s worry at the hotel yesterday and his hunch that they like one another.

“I’m sorry, Broles,” he says without a shred of his usual, joking nature in his words. “for worrying you.”

They exchange another heated, loaded look, before Turles tears his gaze away and grins broadly.

“So the doctors gave me pamphlets for help with my ‘problem.’  If I need to get help.  I’m gonna roll blunts in them later if anyone wants to join in.”

Raditz rolls his eyes.  Turles looks at him and his grin fades.

“Don’t give me that, Radi--I know addiction is serious but.  This is a speed bump.  This isn’t.  I’m not her.”

Her.  His mother.  Her addiction to pain pills is how he and Turles used to get high as kids, even if she always found out if they raided her stash and took it out on her son.

“Be careful,” he says because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Totally,” he agrees. “Now, I saw the concert last night.”

Raditz wonders if he’s going to come for them about “ruining” his punk cred by telling everyone he loves Billy Joel.  He knows that this is a diversion whenever he starts talking about his childhood or his mother or even this--the situation he’s in now.  It’s just how he is.

“Don’t go replacing me with Kale, okay?” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “She’s a freaking prodigy.   _Some_ of us had to listen to ‘Icky Thump’ over and over to figure out one bassline.”

Vegeta rolls his eyes and makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“In case we needed confirmation that he’s okay--he’s still a huge fucking pain in the ass.”

Turles puckers his lips at them to make a kissing sound. “Aw, I love you guys, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> http://vertigoats.tumblr.com


End file.
